


Meet the McCoys

by franztheunicorn



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Arguing, Bones is So Done, Daughters, Dogs, Ex-Wifes, Family Dinners, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Summaries, Like Lots of Arguing, M/M, Meet the Family, Mother-Son Relationship, My First Fanfic, Overprotective, Poor Spock, Post-Star Trek Beyond, Slice of Life, Star Trek Beyond Spoilers, Ugly Sweaters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:18:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7698076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/franztheunicorn/pseuds/franztheunicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock and McCoy were in a relationship for more or less four months and during this one day off duty they decided it's about time for Spock to meet his boyfriend's family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

Looking at it now, McCoy was pretty sure it all began that night in cave, with Spock curled on his side and him trying to keep the wounded man alive with heat of his own body.

Damn, even in his own head it sounded almost like porn. A weird, aberrant, sadistic one, but still porn.

He remebered how tired he was, falling asleep almost every fifteen minutes, even though he knew perfectly well he should be fucking awake and ready to defend himself and the injured Vulcan. He tried to keep his eyes open with counting strange looking letters on the walls of the cave, and when that didn't help, memorizing and repeating the first thing that came to his a little overtired mind - the periodic table. It always helped him stay calm right before the greatest tests in medical academy, so why wouldn't it help him now, while being in a desperate need to stay awoken?

And it was working. For the first half an hour. In the end he spent the rest of the cold, cold, freaking _cold_ night (seriously, why couldn't anyone accidentally leave them on some sort of nice, warm planet with everlasting summer, golden beaches and beautiful girls in skimpy floral outfits instead of middle of the rocky nowhere, just this once? Is he really asking too much?) dozing and watching Spock's face. They were cuddling on the hard ground - even if McCoy didn't want to think how to call it, beacuse hey, he was hugging sleeping Vulcan's back and he was totally okay with that somehow - and the damned hobgoblin, despite the noticeable pain and weariness, was looking like an innocent child sleeping in his arms.

He looked that way many times later, and every time McCoy was waking up wrapped in sheets and slender pale limbs, his heart was twitching pleasantly as he looked at Spock's perfect face peacefully resting on his pillow. He was damn sure he'd never seen anything more beautiful. And then there was Spock awake. And God, Leonard would be willing to become angry at himself for not noticing these wonderful brown eyes, these velvet black hair, these long, delicate fingers earlier - he really would, if only he wasn't too busy with giving back every feverish kiss and every hot-as-hell touch under which his body was burning with desire.

The crew had way too much free time in Yorktown while the Enterprise was being rebuilt and McCoy could say with a clear conscience that he and Spock definitely weren't idling.

 

\-----

 

"You sure about this? Entirely sure?"

Spock looked at him from above his PADD. Apparently considering all of the pros and cons was already in the past, as he nodded quickly, turning his eyes back to the lecture; most likely some of the scientific articles he found yesterday evening.

"I do look forward to meeting your family members, Leonard." he added, sliding his finger across the divice's screen and not giving his boyfriend any more looks. "I am not going to change my decision as I have decided upon it. You do not have to ask about it every quarter of an hour."

McCoy rolled his eyes and rinsed his mouth to get rid of all of the toothpaste.

"Just asking, babe" he leaned against the frame of the bathroom door, wiping his hands with a towel, smile spread across his face. "You're gonna spend a whole week with bunch of southern men and women. And I can swear that I'm the quietest of them all."

Spock didn't answer, still reading, and doctor's smile grew even wider.

"Okay, darlin', let's go meet my crazy little family."

Oh boy, this was going to be so much fun.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so this one's pretty short, I wanted it to be slightly longer, something about 900-1000 words, but maybe next time  
> some positive feedback would be really welcome as it is one of my first fanfics and the first written in English (while coming from not-English speaking country, I'm really proud of my English in general, but when it comes to sharing the pieces I write with anyone all my confidence is just like *poof* and here I am, getting so, so overemotional about my works)  
> I'm a bit nervous in here so please don't be too hateful towards this thing above unless you really have to okay  
> thanks


	2. The Flying Can

 

Actually there was no fun at all, especially when McCoy realised the only way to get from San Francisco to his family house in Georgia was a five hours flight in a killing machine several kilometers above the safety of the steady ground.

Well fuck him but he's not going anywhere.

At least that's what _he_ thought.

Six hours, one deadly logical argument about solidity of flying devices and way too many sedatives later McCoy found himself trembling in his aircraft seat, with thin blue blanket spread on his lap and Spock, who was sitting right next to him, thank God, keeping an eye on the overall picture of misery and despair also known as Bones. His hands were sticky with sweat, his legs felt strangely weak and his heart was pounding against his ribs like a wild bird desperately trying to get out of a small cage. He closed his eyes, clenched fists and tried to focus enough to start breathing normally, slowly and deeply, controlling the paralyzing feeling of the impending end.

Why, of all the avaliable phobias, did he got this fucking fear of dying in a flying can. _Why_. Would it seriously hurt anyone if he was afraid of spiders or heights or ducks? There are no ducks in space, he really could be afraid of ducks, ducks would be just fine. Everything would be fine if it weren't damn planes!

McCoy hated his aerophobia, in that specific way you hate something about yourself but you just can't change it even though you really want to. It was certainly this kind of thing - very annoying piece of himself which no one was noticing until they had to hit him in the back of his head with something very heavy because apparently nothing else could help him with his sudden panic attacks. Leonard simply wasn't able to even get close to an airport while being entirely sober. Going through the gate required a lot of bourbon or at least bemusing himself with his sedatives and medicines for motion sickness until he couldn't walk straight without holding on to the nearest wall.

He felt the plane moving slowly forward and let out a sound disturbingly similar to the shriek of a squirrel in agony. His stomach twisted painfully, threating doctor with very real vision of vomiting on Spock's shoes. Breathing helped him once again, but not for long; only when the plane set up on the airstrip and began to accelerate, McCoy was panicking again.

Suddenly there was a hot hand between his blade bones, gently pushing him down to a little more comfortable position with his head between his knees and Bones folded himself like a shivering, hyperventilating pocket knife. Spock's fingers stroke his messy hair for a while, then moved their soft, reassuring touch on doctor's back.

"I believe you should try taking deep breaths and thinking about something enjoyable." he heard the Vulcan's low, calm voice and muttered angrily something about irritating hobgoblins and teaching physicians about their own domain.

"Damn it, Spock, I'm a doctor, I know perfectly well what should-" the plane interrupted him with sudden jerk as it pulled from the ground and began to climb up. "I'm gonna puke."

He didn't puke. Spock poured in him two cups of tea, covered with a blanket up to his neck, forcing him to lean his head on Vulcan's shoulder. McCoy relaxed a little under the man's warm touch, swallowed more sedatives and pulling legs under his chin plunged into a shallow, restless sleep.

Machine beneath him was purring like a big cat.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it seems I can't write anything longer than 600 words, oh well


End file.
